Hurricane Persepone
by Persepone
Summary: There is a tradition. They name hurricanes after women. Ever wondered why. Rated M for cruel and pointless death
1. Prelude

Disclaimer: I do not own Sonic, and so on…

Preliminary apology: this is in no way a mockery of the horrible catastrophe of the hurricane Katrina – but it is my way of dealing with the aftermath of the tragedy.

**Hurricane Persepone**

1. Prelude

Light. The pale sort you get in public places. One round lamp after another passing above him – were they flying? Was he? He was pretty sure he wasn't moving. In fact, he couldn't feel his body at all. Movement close by. The frantic scurrying of panic. Voices echoing from far away. Faces floating by. They all looked so worried…

- Oh my God! We're gonna need 0-neg, and keep it coming!

- Sure Doc!

- What's this one's story?

- Discovered among the debris left by the hurricane. Resuscitation attempted in the field, but he's not responding.

- Get him to the ER, fast! Go, go, go!

- Coming through! Move!

- Sir? Sir, can you hear me?

- It's no use…

- Any clue to his identity?

- None…

- Hey, isn't that Sonic?

It had been a beautiful summer afternoon, so hot the air seemed almost thick with the mingling scents of salt sweat and melting asphalt. The entire city had rolled over on its' back, gasping. Living it was hell, but remembering it was heaven. The five of them had discussed the issue of fluid, and had come to the conclusion that such an advanced activity was better left for the dark, cool hours of night. Till then all their energy went into breathing. Everything seemed to stand still; no cars, no pedestrians, nothing but street upon street, deserted.

Not even when Amy snuggled up against him, had Sonic been able to find the energy to run away – or even move away. He had just looked at her, curtly, and accepted the fact that she was there. The girl had probably thought something of it, but it was too hot to deal with anything just now. He would live to run some other day.

Sonic leaned back in the wavering patterns of shade and light which filtered through the leaves above, let his head rest against the trunk, and closed his eyes. Before he drifted off, he caught a glimpse of his friends, lying scattered on the lawn before him in the almost white glare of the sunshine. Tails, the clever little sort, had sought refuge under the garden table, and seemed to be fast asleep. Cream was lying curled up next to the birds' basin, looking like something from out of a children's book ("And then the little bunny laid herself down to sleep"). Knuckles was lying spread-eagled on the lawn, fully exposed to the sun. He looked like the loser in a boxing-match.

Bees hummed lazily above the flower-beds, their monotone tune lulling Sonic to sleep. Why weren't all summers like this? A calm dream scented like roses wrapped itself around him.

He opened his eyes with a gasp, shivering. Goosebumps had crawled up both his arms and made a colony somewhere on the back of his neck. The first thing he noticed was the colours – before, everything had been in pastels. Now it seemed a manic E.A. Poe had run wild with a box of coals. Shadows stretched across the grass, throwing contrasts of black upon the fresh green, which seemed to fade to a dull grey. The bees had fallen silent, and were hurrying back to their cube with a strange sense of purpose. Looking at them, Sonic suddenly got a strong urge to run – but not in the usual way, to go somewhere. This time he simply wanted to get away. Animal instinct told him to get out of there in a damn hurry.

The air was so loaded with foreboding, he could taste it. In a vain hope to find the sky as clear and harmlessly blue as before, he looked up. Perhaps this was just a "surprise"-thing the universe liked to pull ever now and again…

No. The sky above was like lead, looming over the little garden like the wrath of nature incarnate. All the flowers had closed their petals tight, tricked by the sudden change in the weather to think it night. A deep rumbling rolled through the heavy mass above like granite in a dry-cleaner, waking up his friends.

- What's happening?

- Wasn't it just summer?

- Bloody weather, I knew I shouldn't have left my nice island!

They huddled together beneath the tree, looking at the swirling clouds above, dumbstruck by the sheer power they emanated. They had never seen the sky behave like this before, and they never wanted to lay eyes on it again, yet were unable to move a single muscle. It was like looking into the dark eyes of a magician, knowing he was hypnotising you, and to yet be unable to drag your eyes from his. It wasn't quite fear, nor awe… it was a deadly dread, though yet they knew not why they felt it.

The wind had grown suddenly cold, biting at their cheeks and arms like an angry beast of winter. Another roll passed above, making Cream jump.

- I don't like thunder, let's go inside! It's dangerous here!

She tugged at Amy's dress, eyes wide with fear. Knuckles turned to look at her with the disdain of the brave faced with something they didn't understand.

- Don't be silly, girl, it's just a little rain, and then everything will go back to normal. Thunder is nothing to be afraid of!

As though the universe had just been waiting for Knuckles to say that, it started pouring down so violently Cream gasped and clung to Amy, and the echidna even backed away a little himself. It was like an explosion of water, creating a haze as it hit the still warm ground with a sound like an angry waterfall. The house really wasn't that far away, but none of them wanted to get wet. Sonic moved to the rear of the group, back against the tree-trunk, while he prayed silently that no-one would remember that he was the fastest creature on the face of the planet (well, almost…). The rain formed a wall of grey around them, and Cream started whimpering helplessly. Amy put her arm around the little bunny's shoulders, trying to comfort her.

- Now, then, at least it is only raining…

The small, scared face turned towards her, and half a smile crept across the terrified features. Suddenly, with an ear-splitting roar of electricity, a lightening wormed its way across the tempestuous skies above their heads, bathing the entire garden in a ghastly blueish-white light, making everything seem frozen for a moment, dissolving the world into nothing more than white light and black shade.

When it passed, they were all running madly, already half-way towards the house, Knuckles in front.


	2. Tall Trees

2. Tall trees

Amy was putting Cream to bed. It was her own old room, the wallpaper a nice, soft colour, like candles at Christmas. Just being there sent her floating on the clouds of remembrance. She was rummaging around for a pair of pyjamas for her young friend.

Luckily they had been able to find clean, dry clothes for all of them, though, she had to admit, she was sorry no camera had been procured. The image of Sonic in an old, worn sweat-shirt (yellow!) and Knuckles in a pullover which had probably been the height of fashion in the 80'ies would haunt her mind forever. Still, she had argued, it beat having a cold. The boys spend some time thinking it over, but had to mumble a grudging agreement in the end.

Cream was sitting on the edge of the bed, her legs dangling. The poor little thing's ears were still wet from the rain, which had been drumming constantly on the roof for the past four hours. In this beautiful little room, with the blinds drawn to shut out the pandemonium that raged on outside, it was hard to believe that it wasn't still the calm night of high summer they had come to know.

Cream looked up at her and smiled that small, sweet smile of hers – after a few cups of cocoa she had been back to her old, cheerful self, and the fright of the thunder had been nothing more than a bad memory.

Amy envied her. She tried to stay calm, but really she was worrying herself sick – the storm was too sudden and too wild to just go away in the morning. Something told her this was nothing more than the beginning, and the sensation left her insides squirming.

They had tried everything to get some news of what this sudden change was – radio, internet, tv, phone – but all had been blank. The power was out, and as they looked out at the neighbourhood from the first-floor windows, the massively dark night that met them left little hope of anyone else knowing what was happening.

Tails had set out to solve the problem, and had been working far into the night, regularly having hysterics over the uselessness of his equipment. He had passed out sleeping over the inactive computer around two o'clock. In the end, all attempts had been in vain, and they had decided to leave it till next morning. Things always looked better in the light of a new day.

Amy sat up in bed with a jolt. Outside the wind was still howling, and she could hear the rain hammer on the windowpanes with renewed force. Her room was completely dark, save for the occasional flash of a lightening. She listened, tense. The house seemed as quiet as always, but something had changed. Something outside, maybe… She knew she had woken up for a reason, but couldn't, for the life of her, say what it was now. Maybe the howl of the wind was making her edgy, she thought, lying back down – it seemed louder now, too, as though the house was caught in a hurricane, flying.

Pushing the thought back down into the subconscious, she drifted off into a dream about a wicked witch and a flying house.

Cream turned over, yawned hugely and opened her eyes. The grey haze of dawn was slanting through the blinds of her room, forming fuzzy figures on the carpeted floor. For a moment she forgot where she was, and wondered why her teddy-bear wasn't by her side. Oh – that's right; she wasn't at home, and her mother wasn't waiting for her in the kitchen, breakfast at the ready. It had been raining too hard for her to go home last night, and Amy had insisted she stay the night.

Admittedly, she hadn't protested all that much…

She kicked aside the covers and got out of bed. As her bare feet touched the floor, she shuddered involuntarily; the air of the room felt chill through the thin fabric of the pyjamas, and she rubbed her arms vigorously walking down the stairs, trying to get rid of the remaining stiffness in her limbs. She sneezed – figures; now she was going to catch a cold… and she had been so careful drying her ears last night too!

- Hello? Is anyone there?

The entire floor was deserted, nothing moving anywhere except those strange shapes on the floor and walls conjured up by the unreal dabs of early sunlight. She got the notion of walking through a house of ghosts, filled with the inaudible whispers of yesterlives. Panic rising, she hurried through the empty house, looking for the others. Where could they be?

The front door was open, a world of grey waiting outside. Dusty-light sprays of rain rode on the wind and had her soaked through in mere minutes. For a moment the child was left completely blinded. A cascade of light was welling into the garden like the presence of god in a renaissance painting.

Something nudged her brain; the garden had been a cosy place when she left it last night – a spot of shade and golden blurs of sun filtering down through the thousands of leaves of the old trees – not at all like this, hard, bright world of grey reality.

She blinked her eyes and jumped back with a sharp intake of air, steadying herself against the frame of the door. This wasn't her world! The parts were all there, but they seemed to have been put together wrong. The lawn was there, but scarred and torn by the raging of the tempest, its fresh green hue fading away as she looked at it. The flowers were there, lying uprooted around the place. The trees were there… something stuck in her throat, making her gag in mid-sob… Oh, yes the trees were all there, their huge richness of leaves lying limp in the mud left over from last night's rain, their wide trunks twisted and splintered as though they were but tiny twigs. It looked like they had dropped like dominoes, their fallen shapes lying pell-mell all over the grounds.

Her friends were there, standing in the middle of the random destruction, tiny, lost figures in the middle of the ravaged landscape. Cream's breath stuck in her throat as she ran towards them, too shocked to even cry. She reached blindly for the first figure she bumped into, desperate for the comfort of closeness. Strong arms closed around her, lifting her off her feet.

- Don't worry, Cream, don't worry… I'll look after you…

She pulled away in sudden surprise – Knuckles?!

But he wasn't the kind sort of fellow, not at all the one she would have expected to find comfort from. He looked at her and smiled through his usual frown. The earnest eyes of the echidna returned her frightened gaze, his strength forming layers of calm over her panic. She clung to his shoulder as the small group clustered together, facing the destruction in shock and awe, but at least facing it together.


	3. Water and Fire

3. Water and Fire

Darkness had fallen once more. Sonic and Knuckles had spend the entire day dragging timber into the living-room. Tails had claimed this was of the utmost importance, and that they would soon enough need it:

- It has been raining hard for the past two days – we will have a flood on our hands soon! And then we'll have no other way of keeping warm than an open fire. So stop whining, and put your backs into it!

After about an hour of this, Knuckles lost his temper and tripped him with a branch, sending him flying head first into the dark mud. The kitsune surfaced spluttering, face dark with wet soil and anger. He looked exactly like the old descriptions of a hobgobling or a troll as he struggled back to his feet, livid with rage.

Amy and Cream burst out laughing, heads popped out of the living-room window. It was the first time in more than 48 hours they had had anything to laugh at, and it was either that or cry. Sonic seemed to think that this was exactly the kind of opportunity he had been waiting for to turn work into fun. With a malevolent smirk and a lightening-fast movement, he threw a handful of the disgusting goo at his red friend, hitting him squarely in the back of the head. Knuckles turned around slowly, tensing with the anticipation of battle, while the mud made its way down his back, probably trying to get away from the rage in his face.

Sonic just smiled, and folded his arms provocatively slow, his very posture saying "Bring it on!" Tails looked from one to the other, and began to back away slowly, wanting to escape as fast as possible without daring to turn his back. In the wink of an eye, the air seemed thick with flying mud.

Laughter floated towards the skies for well over an hour after that. Thanks to the rain, they didn't even have to wash afterwards.

Supper that night consisted of whatever they were able to salvage from the already flooded cellar – mostly stuff in cans, warmed on the gas-stove in the kitchen. Cream had complained at the cold and wanted to light a real fire, but they had all argued against it. There was no reason to be wasting the sparse fire-wood already, not when there was any other way to cook the food.

They had, however, agreed to light candles; with the power down, there was no other way of seeing anything after night-fall. The little bunny had been sulking nonetheless, and had gone to bed early after a night of sitting despondently over a can of tomato-soup in the corner, snivelling at intervals.

- Why doesn't she just cut it out, we all know she's not really sick!

Tails snarled, casting a disapproving glance after her retreating shadow. He had been thoroughly annoyed at her all evening, possibly, Amy thought, because she had laughed so hard at him earlier…

- Leave her alone, she's just homesick… We should probably try to get in touch with Vanilla as soon as possible.

Sonic was looking intently into the impenetrable darkness outside, a pensive look on his face. Tails turned to him, his young features darkened with a mixture of anger at being able to do nothing, fear of the future and disappointment because his long time friend sided against him.

- And how are we going to do that? You know what the cellar looks like – we will be neck-deep in water soon, and you can't swim! The garden is already as good as a swamp, it's only a matter of time before we won't even be able to set foot outside! And you talk about getting in touch with someone?! Get real!

Sonic made no sign he had even heard the outburst, and Amy focused all her attention on the spoonful of soup in her hand. They both knew he was right, but that didn't make them feel any better.

- Hey, cut it out, it's not like you're helping!

The growl sent a shock through the small kitsune and brought desperate tears to his the eyes, as Knuckles turned to him with that closed-in expression of those used to taking care of themselves.

For a terrible moment, Amy was afraid they were going to start fighting, for real this time. She wasn't sure she would be able to deal with a crisis just now… seeing everyone so on edge was like seeing the world falling apart – it was all she could do to keep calm herself. Sure, panic didn't help, but nor did shouting. She looked up and caught the echidna's eyes for a moment, silently formulating an earnest plea: "Don't. Please don't. If difficult on all of us…"

Knuckles raised one hand, palm flat. Tails cowered before him, eyes shut tight. Sonic had his back turned, but Amy knew he was ready, could feel the subtle change in the air as he tensed up. Time seemed to stop.

Very slowly, as though he had to think about every single movement, the echidna reached out towards the small, frightened creature before him, and placed one hand on his shoulder. Shadows danced on the wall behind them as Tails flinched at the soft touch. The guardian smiled reassuringly at him.

- Calm down, kid; we have to stick together now…

It was the second time in less than 24 hours he had been forced to display kindness – this situation had better sort itself out soon, or he would be painting his island pink in a week. The kitsune relaxed under his touch and started to mumble an apology, but no-one was listening. The crisis had passed.

In the cellar, the water climbed a little higher.

Amy was the last one to go to bed that night. She had been sitting by the window, watching the unchanging darkness of night, wondering whether the world would still look the same in the morning…

Dozing away slightly, caught in an odd half-dream filled with gushing water and rushing streams, she thought she saw all her friends being carried away on thick waves of muddy water. She tried to warn them, but they just kept laughing, pretending it was all a game. Cream was the first one to go under, her tiny hands waving frantically at her friends as she gasped and spluttered, torn away by the current.

Amy awoke with a scream:

- Cream!

Apart from the incessant drumming of the rain, and the lapping of tiny waves in the cellar, all was calm. The house was fast asleep. Amy leaned back in the chair, breathing deeply, trying to calm down. But the screams from the dream kept ringing in her ears. She shook her head, as though trying to dislodge a troublesome part of brain. She couldn't stop seeing those frantically waving hands. She knew it was silly, but she had to go and check – had to make sure her little friend was still there, safe in bed.

Water splashed around her feet as she walked to the staircase. She cursed under her breath – of course Tails had been right, but she hadn't thought it would come this fast – they would have to move everything upstairs first thing in the morning. Surely it couldn't keep going like this. Surely it would stop raining soon, and the water would draw back. Surely that had been nothing more than a dumb dream…

Her shoes were soaked through by the time she reached the first step, making her every footfall sound like a wet towel on a slab of stone. Oh, great – this would wake up everyone, and they would want to know why she wasn't in bed, and she would have to tell them about the dream, because lying Sonic in the face was just impossible, and then everyone would laugh at her for being a silly, worrying girl…

However, when she stood at the top of the stairs, listening intently for sounds of disrupted sleep, all seemed as calm as ever.

Her hand on the knob of the door to her old room where Cream was sleeping, Amy hesitated for a moment, ears perched; didn't the breathing sound a little rattling? Was that a whimper? Anxiety grabbed her by the throat, shaking her like a kitten in the jaws of an angry dog. Something was wrong. Now she was sure.

She tore the door open, not caring whether the dead themselves woke up from the racket, and found herself standing by the side of the bed before she knew how she had gotten there.

It was too dark for her to see the face of her little friend, but she could hear her mumbling in her sleep, turning over in bed again and again. Holding back her breath, Amy reached down and placed the back of her hand against the bunny's forehead, but withdrew it immediately, holding back a shocked scream. Cream was burning up.

- Cream? Cream, wake up! Wake up!

She grabbed hold of the frail form, and started shaking it gently, then more frantically, as no response whatsoever was to be gotten out of the feverish girl. Amy let go and backed away in the dark room, her hands moist from the sweat which clung to the young rabbit's fur. She could feel her heart racing as panic sent a fire rushing through her blood.

- SONIC!

Flash.

Still faces, but closer now, clearer. Hands moving past above him, giving and taking shiny silver instruments. Hands wearing gloves. Good. There seemed to be a lot of blood about; he could smell the sharp, sweet scent close by. Who was bleeding?

- Sonic? Sonic can you hear me?

- His lips are moving, what is he saying?

- He's asking where "they" are.

- I thought you said he was alone out there…


	4. Animal Instinct

4. Animal instinct

Sonic's legs were aching. They had been wading through mud all day, and his Wellingtons were several numbers too big. Each step he took was accompanied by a symphony of squelches from below. It was hard to believe that this swamp had been a street only days ago.

Amy and Knuckles were trailing along somewhere behind him. None of them had uttered a single word since noon, and the sun was setting now, managing to throw a short ray of gold under the thick layers of heavy, grey clouds. It danced across the watery mud around them for a moment, shot to pieces by the persisting rain. In the end, the light gave in, and the world returned to the bleak colours they had come to know and despise in the course of the past few days.

The air tasted of mould and moist and seemed harder to breathe than usual, like the rain had sucked the oxygen out of it. They had all been panting less than an hour after they set out…

They had set out that morning in the hope of finding some relief in the city, desperate for any news from the rest of the world. Tails had been left at the house to look after Cream, who had started to recover during the grey hours of the morning. Amy had promised her to buy some medicine for her in the city, but the child had waved her off with a smile, claiming that she really wasn't that sick, and that there was no need for such a fuss. Still, Amy spent a lot of time telling Tails to be careful, and that Cream was still very weak:

- Promise me you'll be careful; she's still very weak

- I promise, Amy, I promise. Don't worry; what could happen? You're the ones going into a disaster-zone, you be careful.

He laughed in an unconcerned twitter, but held tight on to her for a moment when she hugged him goodbye, afraid in spite of his own words, and when they turned the corner fifteen minutes later, Amy could still see him standing in the doorway, looking after them. Seeing her turn, he waved merrily, as only a child can. That moment, she so wanted to run back to him, but had to go with Sonic and Knuckles, in case they found something too big or heavy for the two of them to carry on their own. She walked on, and the block hid the young kitsune from her view.

What would usually have been a two-hour trip, turned out to take all day. Logs had fallen across the streets and the rain had made them awash with mud, turning a trip down a few streets into a hike through a bog. The air was heavy with the continuing rain and the static taste of thunder was everywhere. Driven by the efforts of the others more than anything else, they struggled on, an image of loneliness and impotence in the face of catastrophe.

But when they finally reached their goal, worn and tired, they found no answers, only more questions – the streets were flooded, the citizens frightened, the shops looted and all help absent. Worse: because people recognized them from tv, a crowd gathered around them, almost instantaneously. Cries of "It's Sonic – he'll help us!" were sent echoing down the streets from one desperate heart to the next, until the three of them had no choice but to run back the way they had come.

Amy was the first one to speak, after they were clear of the city, panting in what had probably been someone's front yard.

- We still ought to try to get to Vanilla's house. She should know about Cream. We'll just have to go around the central city…

Amy indicated the direction with her finger, trying to sound cheerful in the face of shock and exhaustion. Knuckles looked blankly, first at her, then in the direction she pointed. Finally, he turned to face her once again, crossing his arms over his chest, speaking in an utterly unemotional voice:

- No.

- But…

- No.

- Don't you think we owe her to-

- Sure. But that doesn't mean running around in this swamp till we are all too exhausted to take another step. There is no help to get anywhere, understand? We are alone! Deal with it!

She stared at him, anger and dread fighting for supremacy in her face. She knew he was right, but was angry at him all the same. She curled up her fists tight too keep herself from crying, and stood there, just looking down at the mud around her knees.

Knuckles looked at her for a while, guilty conscience striving to punch a way through to his stubborn brain. After a while he spoke again, but his voice sounded less gruff this time. She detected a hint of an apology :

- Amy, let's go home. Tails and Cream are waiting, remember… Sonic, what do you think?

They both turned to look at him. He hadn't spoken since the incident at the city. Hadn't even looked at them. Right now, he was standing a little way off, turned away from them, carefully silent. Amy couldn't tell for sure, but imagined that he was crying. His shoulders lagged and he seemed suddenly to have lost his former sense of purpose. He was too quiet to be fine… a small animal on the face of the ancient earth.

If only things weren't so difficult, if only she could take those last three steps, wrap her arms around him and make everything better. He didn't answer, didn't even turn around – he just started walking, slowly and determinately. Not wanting to have to confront him, not having the heart to do so, they followed him. Silence had ruled ever since, spreading out from everywhere around them like the haze of the rain upon the watery surface of the mud.

Sonic took another step and winced at the pain of the old rubber of the boot against his thigh. At first it had just been annoying – by now it was burning so badly he didn't dare to look at it. Amy and Knuckles were lumbering along behind him; he could hear them breathing hard as the mud dragged at their boots, the air, heavy with rain, rattling in their throats.

They would be able to see the house when they rounded the next corner. They were returning empty-handed, and Sonic already hated having to explain the failure to the kids, yet at the same time, he felt happy to be returning at all. Happy that he, at least, had a home to return to.

Though at a distance, he had seen the traffic away from the city; old and young alike, walking alone or in small groups, all of them weighted down by their own possessions as they ran from the flood, ran for dear life. Like him, they felt that this was merely the beginning.

Families from the country, couples from the suburbs, singles from the city, all of them running from a shattered home to a non-existent one. The thought of what the night would bring for them left his insides cold – there had been both women and children among them...

He pushed the thought away as they rounded the corner – no need to let the kids see anything else than a happy, if tired, Sonic. To them, at least, he could still be the hero.

The yellow timber corner of the house, then its green roof glided into view. Peace seemed to drift towards them as they drew nearer. Sonic could hear how the others breathed more freely, and know they felt just as relieved as he did. They all, as if on cue, picked up the pace until they were almost running, the mud gushing around their feet.

Suddenly, in a cascade of brown drops, they all froze to the spot. Amy gasped. Knuckles cursed under his breath. Sonic simply stared. A small, white figure was sitting on the steps in front of the house, bare feet in the cold, brown fluid. It was Cream.

The wind was tearing at her pyjamas, which clung to her legs and shoulders, heavy from the ever-falling rain. She was rocking from side to side, the wind throwing her faint moans hither and thither around the dark form of the house. Evening was drawing on, and in the creeping twilight she looked like a ghost outside a tomb.

Amy was the first to break from the paralysis, as she rushed to the striken figure.

The tiny bunny's hands were deadly cold, and her eyes seemed glazed and oddly out of focus. Amy held her tight, herself instantly beginning to shiver from the touch of her friend's cold body.

- Cream, what's wrong, why are you out here, you ought to be in bed! What happened?

Instead of answering, the young creature hid her face against Amy's shoulder and sobbed away incessantly, her shoulders shaking like some tiny bird robbed from the safety of its nest, her breath rattling in her throat with a sickening, malicious sound.

- Cream, what happened, where's Tails? Where's Tails?

She didn't answer, just cried even louder, from time to time looking over her shoulder at the dark opening of the door behind her, making scared half-gestures toward it. Somehow, her desperate crying broke the spell her ghastly appearance had cast over Sonic, and he sprinted, pupils contracted to the size of pin-heads with fear, beside the two girls on the stair-case and through the dark square of the doorway.

Knuckles remained standing in the mud, his boots slowly filling up with rain-water. Cream lifted her head slowly to look at Amy, warm tears mingling with cold rain on her cheeks. Panting with sorrow she stammered:

- There wa- was five of them… they bro- oke down the, the, the door… they… they were looting… he told… he told them… to get out… but… one of them… they had base- baseball-bats, and… Oh, Amy… they wouldn't stop hitting him! They wouldn't stop!

A sudden scream of pure, inarticulate sorrow tore through the wet twilight, making them all jump. It rode on the wind, wrapping itself around the house like a winter fog. The terrible howling struck Amy at the heart like razor-sharp icicles. She knew it could only be Sonic, yet the voice sounded like something from another world.

She bowed her head over the small, shivering form beside her, and let the sorrow seep out of her, into the tempest. She dimly noticed a red form kneeling in the mud some way off, and, eventually, a blue form with red gloves beside her.

They staid there till the world vanished around them, wrapped in darkness.

Flash.

- Charge to 500. Clear!

- Still nothing…

- Charge to 800. Clear!

- Hang in there, Sonic!


	5. Silent Night

5. Silent night.

The furniture had been thrown about and most of it broken, along with a few windows. There was blood on the floor in the living-room, mingling with the few inches of dirty water which seemed to cling to everything, draining the colour out of it. But there was no sign of Tails – Sonic had seen to the funeral himself, and no-one really wanted to talk about it. He had just been sitting there on the stairs, his boots and legs smeared with mud and his gloves red with blood. Knuckles had gone to sit beside him, as Amy put Cream back in bed.

The little bunny couldn't stop shaking, and lay restless, lips slightly parted, eyelids vibrating. Amy sat by her side, holding her hand, while the rain hammered against the window and a gurgling sound as of rushing water grew outside. Though she had tugged the child in nice and warm, the hand she was cuddling was as cold as marble.

The room suddenly seemed much less friendly, more like a ward in a hospital than a private home. Everything loomed towards the bed, as if to choke the little, shivering form. She called her friend's name quietly, trying to calm down both the bunny and herself. Her voice disappeared mere breaths from her mouth, swallowed up by the stuffy twilight kept only at bay by a single, fluttering light. One small flame against a night full of darkness…

As the long hours passed, though, the child grew warmer and seemed to gradually calm down, until she was just sleeping. Colour returned to her face, and her breath slowed down. Amy smiled, daring to hope now that recovery seemed possible. Feeling relief wash over her, she leaned back against the wall, still holding her friend's hand, and nodded off, exhausted beyond expression by the ordeals of the day.

Amy was dragged violently back into the waking world with a gasp of pain: her fingers were throbbing with agony – the hand she had been holding was closed so tightly around hers the knuckles had turned white. She looked up, her eyes wandering along her friend's arm to her face. She had never before witnessed a death-struggle, but now she saw every last horrible detail in the face of the girl before her. She could barely recognise her.

Cream mumbled hoarsely in some far-off, feverish dream, calling for her mother, now and again showing the whites of her eyes. Her fur was dark with the chill sweat of illness. Amy looked at her fixedly, scarcely daring to blink. Her eyes watered, tears making their way down her cheeks, but she didn't wipe them away; she was holding Cream's hand in both her own now, hoping beyond hope that she could somehow hold on to the child. That if only she held tight, her friends wouldn't slip away. It was silly, really, but she was beyond the point of sanity, mumbling under her breath, not knowing, not caring whether she was praying or cursing.

It was clear the child had only a short time left in this world, her body thrashing under the covers in spasms of passing like a fish in the net. The candle had burned low, casting their shadows upon the far wall in monstrous, looming forms. The breath of her small friend came in irregular gasps, her chest heaving laboriously under the sheets. Amy felt like she had been trapped in a picture, some sad old scenery from the dark ages, when plague ravished the land. "The deathbed"

Though she held on to Cream, she could feel her slipping away, could hear how her breath grew shorter, coming at unnatural long intervals. In the end she listened so hard for it, she heard it even when it had ceased for ever and the hand she was holding had turned cold and stiff.

Sonic had lost track of time. He remembered carrying Tails, remembered how his arms and legs had swung from side to side keeping time with his movements, like a puppet without strings. Sticky fluid had seeped through his gloves, and dripped into the muddy water, forming a red trail behind him.

He could remember the smell of the mould as he dug the hole on a small hillside, and the feel of his friend's fur against his face as he hugged him goodbye. He wished he couldn't remember the sound the body made as hit the bottom of the grave, or the wet slabs of the dirt as he closed the young kitsune away from the world forever.

But still, all this was better than the memories that wouldn't leave him alone – Tails smiling, laughing, talking, blinking, walking by, reaching out for him… Sonic hit his face in his hands, closing himself around his sorrow.

The air changed. Something had happened. Looking around, he saw Amy sitting beside him, and hurriedly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He would have to be more careful in the future; he couldn't show weakness now, not when there was so much need for him to be strong.

- Hi, Ames, didn't hear you…

She just looked at him, not even trying to speak. Her eyes were red and her hands were shaking, lying flat and empty in her lap. He moved closer to her and put one arm around her shoulders – there was nothing he could say anyway. Nothing any of them could say. There are times when words are not enough. She drew a deep breath and looked out into the greying world. Above them, the stars were fading, reflected perfectly in the huge lake the little house stood partly emerged in. The horizon was a perfect line of dark-blue.

- Look; it's stopped raining…


	6. The Flood

6. The flood.

Amy was lying in bed, eyes wide open. She didn't want to go to sleep. It wasn't like after a good day, when she wanted to hang on to the moment… she was afraid to close her eyes because of the dreams. She knew that the very moment sleep overcame her, the dark would come alive with crushed bodies, drowning friends, gasping breaths and rushing water. She could almost hear it now… The light was forming otherworldly shapes on the ceiling, like sea-snakes and dragons from fairytales long forgotten.

Her eyes were red and stung from the thousands of tears she had shed for her friends only a few hours earlier. She blinked, and grey pictures flashed before her eyes, tearing at the fresh wound inside. She focused hard on the swirling forms that danced across the ceiling. The world seemed so empty – right now, all she wanted was to hear Tails speak and Cream laugh. Now that they were forever gone, all she needed was to reach out and touch them once more… A cold, stabbing pain started throbbing in the pit of her stomach – no, not again… she had cried enough, hadn't she?

She turned on the side and bit her fist, fighting down the tears. She couldn't afford to waste energy on sorrow, not when she needed it to survive. Water muttered somewhere close. She would have to deal with yet another day soon enough…

With a sound loud like a gunshot, the door burst open, sending a waterfall of light into the room, blinding her completely. Running feet rushed over to her, splashing trough still water, strong hands pulled her out of bed as though she was no heavier than a child's pillow. Her legs fought to keep up, but her knees scraped against the floor – muddy water dragged at her nightgown, inhibiting her movements. Wait; water? On the first floor? She stiffened as realisation hit her… holy shit!

- Come on Amy, keep up!

Knuckles grumbled, breathing hard with the effort of running through water and dragging the stunned girl. Yet he still held her hand so tight her fingers had gone numb. She mumbled some confused syllables about Sonic, but only got a humph in reply.

- He's ok... he's waiting… for us on the… roof.

His words came in short, exhausted bursts as the night's hard work took its toll on his otherwise unbeatable stamina; he had been the first one to notice the flood, his warriors' senses reacting on the minute change in sound and temperature even through the layers of sleep he had wrapped himself up in. Sonic had been in the room next to his, snoring happily, and had been so shocked he hadn't even been able to speak until they reached the roof, at which time the echidna was already on his way back for the girl.

You would think these so-called "heroes" were used to fighting, but it seemed the past few days had been more than they could bear – both of them had acted like this, like scared children caught in a war-zone… Luckily, Knuckles mind never worked better than during a crisis; what otherwise seemed like single-mindedness turned into diamond-edged determination, and drove him towards the goal.

They reached the ladder to the attic, and he pushed the girl in front of him. For a moment he was afraid he was going to have to carry her, but, thank god, she seemed to be working on automatic: in the middle of chaos, a ladder was a nice, stable thing, a known thing she could deal with. As they climbed up, Knuckles constantly feared the girl would crack, slip and drag them both to the ever-rising, dark water beneath them.

When she turned around and grabbed his arm to help him stumble into the attic, he could not help sending her a thankful smile. In spite of everything, she managed to think of someone else – perhaps strength was sometimes more than muscle… She smiled back – her chin and cheeks pock-marked by the dark fluid, she looked like some forgotten child from the swamplands.

The gurgling sound as the water rushed up through the hole to the lower floors broke the spell, and he dragged her to her feet for the second time that night. In two strides they were by the small window, and he pushed her through vehemently, ignoring her offended outburst. Blow etiquette (not that he hadn't always done so) – this was about survival! The water lapped at his feet as he heaved himself unto the roof. Finally; safety. He wasn't sure he would be able to move at all for a few days; his entire body ached… But at least they had all made it.

Sonic was shivering, wet fur sticking to his body, heavy like plate-armour and just as stiff from the drying cakes of mud caught in it. He felt like his very bones were freezing, like his flesh had been eaten away, and the wind was blowing against bare nerves. But, after all, this was probably a good thing – being this cold, there was no chance of his falling asleep, and therefore no chance of his sliding off the wet, slippery roof.

He had been staring fixedly at the dark square of the window every since Knuckles had disappeared down there. He couldn't see the water, not clearly, but he could see the stars reflecting in it, pale spots skating hither and thither over the stirring surface, moving in sudden, fast spasms of speed, very much like he did when dodging an attack.

A memory so old he thought it surfacing from early childhood flew across the back of his head – a memory of looking at bees and knowing that he should, as they did, seek refuge. A memory of flowers and trees in the rain. A memory from before reality was painted grey. The world had seemed so different, almost like another planet, yet it was only a few days ago…

A head of pink quills popped through the window, immediately followed by the rest of Amy and an angry shout of "Hey!" as she tumbled onto the roof. She quickly scrambled out of the way, clinging frantically to the glazed tiles. Through the twilight, Sonic could see her eyes widening as she took in the new ocean-world around them. Completely unaware of him, she whimpered under her breath like some frightened animal.

With a huff of straining muscles, Knuckles heaved himself out through the window. Dirty water followed in his heels like a dog on the track, and he had to fight hard to keep hold of the slippery surface of the roof. Sonic edged his way towards him, careful not to lose his balance himself. As he got closer, he could only just see the echidna's face horribly contorted with the effort, through the twilight. Knuckles swore angrily and kicked out against the gushing stream. As a splash hit his face in retaliation, he looked up at Sonic, coughing and spluttering for air. He immediately read the intention in the hedgehog's face.

- Sonic, no! Stay back!

He tried to wave him off, but the movement only caused him to slide further down the roof, into the icy, swirling depths. He closed his eyes tight as the palms tore out of his gloves. A vein was throbbing on his forehead and beads of sweat left dark tracks down his forehead and made him blink as the salt stung his eyes. Sonic shifted his weight and crawled a little closer, his feet skidding on the tiles with every single move.

- Sonic, don't! You can't save me, the current's too strong! Stay where you are or we'll both drown!

The murky water was tugging at his shoulders now, pulling his head back by the long quills, making him gag. Sonic leaned forward slowly, reaching out towards his friend's straining hand. Just a little closer…

- Listen, you dumb creature, you can't die for me! You have to live for her!

He screamed the last sentence as the water roared past, smearing his face with mud, covering all but his hands for a moment. Involuntarily, he turned around, straining his neck to look at Amy. The girl was sitting curled up, shivering in her wet night-gown, eyes wide with terror, her hands clawing at the slippery tiles. He suddenly realized he had seen that look a hundred times before – in the faces of refugees and desperate survivors of war in camps and ruined villages everywhere around the globe. The tv bombarded him with images like this every single day, and he did what he could to help, but he never thought he could get caught in their place. Never imagined he could be the one in need of help.

The water roared and gurgled and Knuckles grunted in final defiance. Sonic very carefully didn't look at where he had been, didn't have to. He read everything he needed to know in Amy's terrified stare. In the course of the next hour he managed to crawl up next to her. She didn't cry till her head rested on his shoulder.


	7. Exodus

7. Exodus

It had begun raining again, and the cold had lost its refreshing effect, making them nod off at intervals. They had agreed to take turns at staying awake, to make sure no-one slid off the roof, but by now, they were sitting side by side, sleep weighing down their shoulders and chins until they were huddled close together. That way, at least, the cold only felt intoxicating, not painful.

The water had stopped rising, and was flowing by calmly now, as though it was in no rush to collect its prize.

Sonic wrapped his arms around Amy's shoulders, not sure whether he sought, or wanted to give, warmth. The girl sighed sleepily and opened her eyes. A tiny incredulous frown crept across her forehead. Waking up in the arms of Sonic – could only be another dream. She smiled at him, and he returned the smile. Kindness for kindness seemed fair enough. The world was falling apart around them, but they could still smile. True – there was a strained quality to Sonic's face that hadn't been there a few days earlier, and Amy's eyes were haunted by fleeting shadows of sorrow. Both of them had changed… but still both of them could smile.

Hour followed hour, seeing nothing more than sighing stream and falling rain. Sonic didn't wake up Amy. She slept so peacefully, finding in sleep the peace that had disappeared from the world. Her calm breath melted into the scenery and became part of the world around him. Somehow it seemed right that she should sleep and he should watch – ancient instincts told him that was how the world ought to be. Her head was resting against his shoulder, his arms encircling her, cradling her, keeping her safe.

A shadow of fear stalked into the universe. What if she, too, was lost to the mayhem around him, torn away by violence, like Tails, or illness, like Cream, or nature, like Knuckles. Didn't she look a little paler than usual? Weren't her lips turning blue? Having lost everyone else, he couldn't bear the thought of losing her too. Slowly, gently, he bowed down over her, whispering her name.

- Amy? Amy, stay with me, don't go.

She didn't answer, must still be sleeping. He slid the back of his hand down her cheek, caressing her ever so gently. Why did the world have to be turned upside-down before he noticed how much she meant to him? Why did dead have to shoot its' arrows at all his friends before he learned to appreciate life? He would blame himself for his stupidity forever, but at least it was not too late – hope remained for the two of them. Hope and life.

- You're all I have left… I… I love you…

He pressed his lips softly against hers, shuddering at the cold contact. He closed his eyes and waited holding the kiss – she would wake up any minute now, and return his embrace. Any minute…

Nothing.

But this couldn't be – she had been fine a minute ago…

The girl was as cold and limp in his arms as a rag-doll pulled out from a refrigerator. As he drew back from her abruptly, her head fell back over his arm, her pale lips slightly parted. Looking at her closed eyes and smooth brow, he knew that she had found a peace beyond all tempests. But that didn't take the pain away. It felt like he had been shot through the stomach, and was just waiting to bleed out of existence…

Drawing her empty form to him in a tight embrace, he screamed his sorrow into the howling wind, until the swooping chopper drowned out all sound, catching the two little figures on the roof in its search-light.

No, Amy! WHYYYYYYYYYYY?!

Flash.

- It's useless… I'm calling it… 10:48

- Notify housekeeping, this place is a mess.

- We lost him…

Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-

Why?

Such is my nature.


End file.
